


This Is Our Castle

by prelovedsinner



Category: Fall Out Boy, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bottom Patrick Stump, Cocky! Dallon, Eventual Smut, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I don't know what else to tag this as man, M/M, Patrick Stump in a dress, Prince! Dallon, Prince! Patrick, Princes & Princesses, Top Dallon Weekes, daltrick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 08:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16950426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prelovedsinner/pseuds/prelovedsinner
Summary: Patrick Vaughn Stump. With such an elegant name, you'd expect him to be some sort of rich, royal son. A heir to a throne. Well, you'd only be half right.The Sphalerite Kingdom is struggling. Crops are dying and animals aren't reproducing as much as they need to, leaving farmers suffering to scrounge up enough money to get even a slice of bread to feed their family. Patrick knows it's his duty as a Prince  to do something for his people, to strengthen relations with nearby kingdoms who could help.The Galena Kingdom was the richest of them all. It was just his luck that Prince Weekes had taken a liking to him. Except Prince Weekes was a bit of a cocky bastard.





	This Is Our Castle

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first AO3 story so bear with me. I've been sitting on this fic for a while now, let me know if you're interested in being a co-writer because I am clearly just an amateur. Criticize me all you want, I want to get better. After all, I was just a wattpad writer years ago :p

Her Majesty carefully slid the zipper of her son's gown to the very top. It was a shade of white that was whiter than white itself, lined with the finest crystals the miners were able to dig up within the kingdom's borders. Of course, Patrick was not usually one to pay any mind to such material wealth. It was never of any interest to him.

"Darling, are you sure you wish to attend? Not only is this the first time you'll be seen internationally, but this is the first contact with neighbouring nations in years."

"Mother," Patrick spoke with a gentle and assuring tone. "I will be finer. Although it is slightly daunting, it is my duty."

At only 21 years of age, a boy like Patrick must look ahead for his kingdom. Socializing and maintaining good relations with other royals is part and parcel of being in line to the throne. Yet, the ball would be his first of such experiences. Nobody outside of their kingdom even knew of his existence, let alone his name. This response extracted a sigh from his mother's lips. She clasped the small reddish-orange bangle on his wrist, the one that matched hers. He had never had to use it but since he was actually going to meet other princes and princesses, the heirloom was necessary for identification.

"Alright. But I must warn you. A handsome boy like you is going to attract a lot of attention. Especially since you're wearing a dress. That's very much out of the ordinary," she began, looking at her son through the mirror and wrapping her arms around him. Pride and love radiated from her deep blue eyes. "You cannot let anybody tell you that you're lesser than them, understood? Our kingdom may be small, and so may you, but we have twice the heart of most of them."

Her concern was not unfounded. For a little under eight years, the kingdom had been looked down upon by most. The people had suffered great loss over the last eight years. This began with a terrible sickness which spread it's wrath across their land and claimed the lives of nearly a third of their people. Doctors worked day and night and were able to create a cure for the dubbed 'Hell Plague'. However, even after all were cured, after citizens had finally stopped hacking up blood red mucus and forming black patches on their skin, they still suffered. The king and queen had cut off all trade with their neighbouring nations when the Hell Plague hit. This was not only to stop it's spread, but also to protect themselves. The perfect time to strike a kingdom would be during such an epidemic. Their defenses would be at its lowest, reaction time to any attacks would be severely delayed and the people would have no morale to fight.

To prevent this and to prevent the sickness from becoming more widespread, the gates were closed. However, this act of quarantine was perceived as hostility by others. Sphalerite was seen as outsiders. Which is exactly why it was Patrick's duty to mingle and get acquainted with his neighbours. If he did not attend the ball at the Galena Kingdom, future relations would be near impossible.

"Yes, mother. Of course. I will do my best to better Kingdom Sphalerite's reputation as well as my own," Patrick promised, turning around and smiling up at the queen. She rubbed his cheeks softly before embracing him in another hug, a proud smile on her face. "Oh, Patrick. I am incredibly lucky to be blessed with such a gorgeous, mature, sweet son such as yourself. Please never change." This made the prince smile and laugh softly. He hugged back, face buried in her greying hair. "Now, come. Our carriage is waiting for us."

Her Majesty then dragged him along and out of the room. They glided down the steps and he only smiled wider as he watched the tailings of her gown flutter in an angelic manner, revealing new steps for him to follow suit. He longed to be as elegant as his mother someday. Patrick had always viewed the king and queen in a perfect light, and he could only hope that he'd be half the ruler his father is.

A reddish orange carriage was waiting downstairs, ready to take them away. The coachman held the door open for us, King Jonnathan already seated. A warmth filled Patrick's heart as he saw his father's eyes light up upon seeing his wife dressed up. Queen Patricia joined him while Patrick hopped up on the front, next to where the coachman would sit. The young brunette was surprised, but smiled and gave the prince a polite bow and they set off.

Casual conversations about the weather and the townspeople were carried as they began. However, as they crossed the midfields, along the barren mountains here crops used to flourish and envelop the expansive area, they said nothing. There was a thickness in the air, hidden under the breezy winds. It was solemn and slightly tense. Both boys had no clue what to say that wouldn't make things more uncomfortable. The gloomy view served only as a reminder of the coming famine that was expected to occur as their reserves were running dry. It was obvious that both of them were thinking about how many people had already perished as a result of the crops that just couldn't seem to grow.

But as they passed the gates and entered Corondum territory, one with fenced off patches of wheat and corn and edible food, the silence felt a little more comfortable. There was a drastic change of atmosphere - from browning grass and barely any flowers to valleys of life and beauty of colour. It took the prince's mind off the travesty that their kingdom had been facing for years, even if it was just for a little while. And seeing the coachman glancing up at the watercolour of pinks and purples and oranges in the sky assured Patrick that he was not the only one enjoying the visual distraction. Beauty is a wonderful escape.

Sometimes, beauty is pleasant. But other times, it's necessary. If not for the sun's bedtime routine of painting the above in golden orange, Patrick doubted that anyone in Sphalerite would be sane.

"Prince, forgive me if it's not a pleasant topic of discussion, but... Do you think the kingdom will ever be the same?" The coachman _\- Joseph, he had learnt -_ asked. He spoke tentatively, voice hinting fear. Who could blame him? Times ahead look far from hopeful.

"It's just Patrick, please. I'd like my friends to call me Patrick." Patrick bit his lip gently, watching the sun sink as he considered his response.

 _Would it?_ With their dwindling economy and their terrible standing amongst other nations, it would be extremely difficult to climb back to how Sphalerite once was - A great, prospering kingdom.

"To be completely honest, Joseph, it seems doubtful. However, I promise that we are trying our best to bring us to where we need to be, rather than where we used to be," the prince assured, his voice gentle.

"I'm merely a servant, sir. It would be disrespectful of me to refer to royalty by their first name," Joseph spoke as his focus shifted from the beaten dirt path to Patrick. "But... Friend? You really see me as such already?"

"Of course you are my friend. And sure, maybe traditionally, but it would be disrespectful to disobey a prince's wishes as well, would it not?" Patrick shot back in a playful and lighthearted manner. A smile peeked its way on Joseph's lips.

"I suppose so... Patrick."

They arrived at the Galena Kingdom ballroom a little over an hour later. The Corondum kingdom proved difficult to cross, with multiple stops by guards whom they had to convince that they were simply passing through. Patrick bade his new friend goodbye and followed his parents inside. He could sense their discomfort, despite their facade of confidence. However, he knew that they were professionals who had been ruling long before he was born. They knew how to stay calm and elegant.

"Sweetheart, you should join the other princes and princesses. This is your first experience under royal gaze, so go on and try acquaint yourself with others," the Queen advised with a gentle squeeze of my shoulder and an assuring smile, "I know you're very good at that."

Patrick glanced around, taking in the sight around him as his parents joined the area where the other Kings and Queens laughed and sipped their wine. The room was vast and spacious, walls painted black and ceiling rising up about 30 feet high. Two gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling with actual lit candles on it. Right in the middle of the room held a grey indoor fountain. The whole area room was extravagantly decorated, which made Patrick wonder just how rich the kingdom must be to afford all of it. To garner the courage to join the others, Patrick made the refreshments area his first stop. He spent some time trying the food and sampling the wine. Everything was scrumptious. Though he wanted to stay there forever, he knew he had to make his first impression eventually. He slowly made his way over to a table where around 5 other princes and princesses of various ages sat.

"Hello, there. I am Prince Patrick from the kingdom of Sphalerite. It's nice to meet you all," he introduced with a little bow and a warm smile. He managed not to stutter, surprisingly. However, the royals did not turn their bodies, merely looking at him over their shoulders.

_Clearly, manners aren't taught in all kingdoms._

"Prince who? Sphalerite has a prince?" A lady, no older than himself, asked. She eyed him up and down, making him feel inferior and a little self-conscious. Her wristband was blue, the colour of Chalcopyrite.

"I heard King Jonnathan's son died from the plague," quipped another princess, who looked a little younger, maybe 19. Patrick had the feeling that her comment was not addressed to him.

"I was told the whole kingdom was wiped out," a dashing boy of around 20 stated, donning the red wristband of Jasper. He also eyed Patrick, but with less judgement and more intrigue. "Clearly I was severely misinformed. I apologise. How old are you, Patrick?"

"Well, as it appears, I only just turned 21-" Patrick spoke, but was cut off by a man from another table who had been listening in.

"Why did your kingdom become shut in?" The man asked, an accusatory eyebrow raised which only enhanced the level of insensitivity his question held.

"I, um-" Patrick stuttered out before more questions bombarded him.

"What happened to your kingdom?"

"Why are you wearing a dress?"

"Are you single?"

"What's your name again?"

Patrick pulled away from everyone, feeling cornered. Some of the questions he was asked were questions he could not, or did not have the right to answer. They were like a pack of wolves, vicious and eyeing up their prey, though they all seemed to have different intentions when talking to him. Curiosity, lust, disgust. He felt overwhelmed and trapped, so the prince muttered out an excuse about feeling ill and went out to the large balcony adjacent to where they were.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips as nobody followed him out. The autumn winds blew past, making him shudder a little. It was not as chilly earlier when he sat at the front of the carriage and rode against the winds. Two trees were placed by the doors, and a line of bushes blooming pure white grew along the end. The soft crunch of oranged leaves greeted him with every step he took towards the stone edge. Illuminating the way was the dim lights placed along the sides, as well as the full moon above. It all felt enchanting. Leaning against the rough, stone barrier, he admired the view. There were no farms or cottages as far as the eye could see, which surprised Patrick. Only a wide, lush garden of flowers in all shapes and sizes. Bursts of red and pink roses, bright yellow sunflowers, pale daisies and many more. He couldn't help but smile at the sight before him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A voice spoke from behind the prince.

Patrick jumped and spun around, startled by the man he didn't notice before The man, much taller than he, strolled over and sat at the bench a few steps away. It occurred to Patrick that he hadn't bothered to look at the darker corners of the balcony when he came out. Though it was still dark, he could tell that the man was not yet a king, due to his lack of crown.

"Come, take a seat."

The man's voice was soft, smooth like velvet. It sounded a bit like the taste of hot chocolate, or at least that's what it reminded Patrick of. That was welcoming enough to get Patrick to comply.

"It's gorgeous here. The royal family that lives here must be very lucky," Patrick agreed to the stranger's initial statement, continuing to enjoy whatever else of the flowers he could see over the stone railing.

"Indeed. The prettiest ones are the ones we keep dearest," The man pointed out, holding up a white flower that he appeared to have plucked from one of the bushes.

Patrick's eyes had adjusted to the darkness by then. The man before him had warm brunette hair combed up yet slightly swept to the side. The moonlight revealed the bright blue colour of his eyes, though it was too dark to see the intricate details on them. Patrick glanced at the man's outfit, surprised that he dared to pluck off of a bush that wasn't his. He wore a well-fitted silver suit with intricate black velvet designs climbing up it, resembling the likes of vines and branches. His bangle portrayed a similar colour scheme.

 _Of course,_ Patrick thought. _He was Galena royalty. The royals above royalty._

"Oh, I'm sorry. I-It didn't occur to me that you were Prince Weekes," he stuttered out, his cheeks growing pink in embarrassment.

"It didn't? I'm surprised, I thought everyone knew Galena royalty. After all, we are the most powerful kingdom in this continent," He said, confidence loud and clear in his tone. His eyes wandered to Patrick's wrist. "You must be from Sphalerite, correct?"

Patrick was taken aback. Never had he met someone so outright with their complacency.

"That... Was a little arrogant of you, your highness," he said, forcing out a small laugh and looking at the man with a soft smile incase he came off as too rude. "But yes, I am indeed from Sphalerite. My name is Patrick, Patrick Stump."

"Maybe so, but there is some truth to it," he pointed out, a soft smirk playing on the corners of his lips as if he was holding it back. Seeing that made Patrick's blood rise, but he kept the smile up.

Patrick decided then and there that the prince before him was not one he wanted to associate himself with too much. His cockiness was reminiscent of evil villains in storybooks that his mother would red to him. The kind of villains who would monologue about how extraordinary they were and about how their sadistic plans will surely be successful, only for them to be foiled by the protagonist. To Patrick, putting his kingdom on such a high pedestal like that would only mean that he would not think twice about crushing another for his own personal gain. Galena undoubtedly held great power and wealth, but all that did not matter to Patrick. All he saw was the lack of humility. He decided that partnering himself with the likes of Prince Weekes would only cause his own kingdom grief in the long run.

"Patrick. What a wonderful name for a beautiful prince like yourself," Prince Weekes complimented, flashing an admittedly charming smile. He held out the flower in his hands, which Patrick accepted hesitantly. A blush rose to his cheeks.

"Thank you, sir. That's very kind of you. What is your first name, if you do not mind me asking?" Patrick asked, despite his previous decision.

"No need to thank me for speaking the truth, Prince Patrick. Forgive me for the lack of introduction. I am Dallon Weekes, you may address me however you'd like. I am not to particular about formalities," he replied, holding his hand out for me to shake. His grip was firm and formal, yet careful and gentle at the same time.

"Nice to meet you, Prince Dallon Weekes. Thank you for inviting my family and I."

"You are very much welcome. To be completely honest, my mother did not expect your arrival today. After ending trade with almost all other kingdoms so suddenly, my father was worried that Sphalerite no longer wanted relations with anyone at all. Had your family not come to this ball, Galena and almost all other countries would stop trying to reconnect."

Bringing the topic up made Patrick's stomach sink. He had no right to speak for his parents, so he was not sure how to carry on the conversation smoothly. After taking a few moments to formulate a response, he looked back up at Prince Dallon's eyes (which, he noticed, was a shade of blue he had never seen before) and spoke.

"Thank you for your concern, but we were more than happy to come."

There was then a moment of slightly tense silence between them, both looking at the breathtaking view. Of course, Prince Dallon was likely used to it already, so Patrick was thankful for the man's patience in allowing him to enjoy experiencing it fully for the first time.

"So, Prince Patrick. How are you enjoying the ball so far?" He asked after a while, scooting a tiny bit closer to the smaller man and leaning back a little. Patrick relaxed more.

"It has been quite enjoyable. The food and beverages were lovely, and the ballroom is absolutely gorgeous," Patrick complimented with a smile on his face. Dallon's arrogant behaviour from earlier was not forgotten, but his charm was most definitely softening his impression on Patrick, leaving him intrigued.

"That's wonderful. I'm glad you've had a nice experience so far. You are old enough to try the wine, correct?" He asked, looking down at him more intently and even leaning closer.

"Yes, actually. In fact, I just turned 21 recently. The wine was also amazing. As my first ball, you really set my expectations high for any future royal events." Patrick stared down at his hands, fiddling with his thumbs as he spoke. A nervous habit.

"Good. That's very good," he said softly, gaze shifting towards the flowers once again.

A more comfortable silence fell over them for a few moments, much like the silence with his friend Joseph. Dallon's voice eased him, wrapped around him like a spider cocooning it's prey, though it felt more like a warm hug in the chilly autumn winds.

"If you do not mind me asking, Prince Patrick," Dallon spoke up softly, careful not to break the comfortable atmosphere, "Why is a handsome boy like yourself wearing this gorgeous dress? I will not deny that it suits you perfectly, I am simply curious. No other prince dares to embrace graceful femininity as you do."

Patrick looked up at Dallon once more, seeing no malice in his eyes and hearing no punchline coming. One of the taller prince's hands had fallen to caress and admire the sheer layers that covered everything under the waist. A soft blush rose to the ginger-haired boy's cheeks upon realising that the compliment was sincere. Despite being a prince, he was never used to being referred to with such sweet names. Prince Weekes' soft yet chiseled features staring back at him had weakened his defenses.

"Thank you, Prince Weekes, that is very kind of you. I simply prefer wearing dresses such as this one. They make me feel pretty. Being my first time meeting other princes and princesses such as myself, it would be a poor foundation to begin friendships on if I were to hide this side of me from them. This is me, whether they accept it or not."

The look Dallon gave Patrick in that moment almost felt unreal. As if Patrick was the most beautiful being to have walked the earth. It made his heart stop. Only then did Patrick realise how close together the princes’ faces were. Their lips were only centimeters from meeting. So, Patrick looked away, hiding another blush that rose to his cheeks. However, Dallon was having none of that.

A hand was brought up to to Patrick’s jaw, carefully tilting his head back up to face the charming man. It was rough in texture, yet gentle. Patrick let him. His heart had melted at the careful and calculated touch, and his eyes fell closed. The other prince knew exactly what he was doing. Patrick was under his spell. In those few seconds, he could do whatever he wanted to Patrick and Patrick would reciprocate wholeheartedly.

Their lips met and it was as though the world around them had stopped just for that moment. His lips were soft against Dallon’s, and the kiss was nothing short of pleasant. It lasted for a few seconds, before they both slowly pulled away. Patrick’s eyes fluttered open and he saw the other prince looking back. There was a soft smirk on his face.

There it was. That smirk that both made his heart flutter and his blood boil. He was absolutely smitten by the man’s self-assuredness. In fact, it was downright attractive. That being said, Prince Dallon Weekes was treading the line between confidence and cockiness. But there was a zero error embedded from the start of their encounter which shows that he was fully pledged to the latter. Remembering that, Patrick stood up slowly. His cheeks were still tinted a light shade of pink, but the soft smile on his lips had faded. They were still tingling from the kiss.

“I think I should be going, Prince Weekes,” Patrick spoke softly, stepping back a little. Dallon stared at him for a moment, before nodding.

“I had a pleasant conversation with you this evening. I hope to see you soon, Prince Patrick.” With that, Patrick slipped out of the balcony and back into the ballroom where others had forgotten his presence. This left Dallon alone on the bench. The white flower he had plucked earlier had fallen to the floor from where it was placed on Patrick’s lap earlier. He picked it up carefully, smirk still on his face.

Patrick was pretty. He liked pretty things.

He wanted Patrick, and he was determined to have the small boy in the palm of his hands once more.


End file.
